New World
by vierblith
Summary: TezukaFuji. Oneshot. AU: An accident changes Syusuke's life. And I don't know how to write a summary. A Beauty and the Beast take on TezukaFuji


**Title: New World**

**A/N**: my first fic in ages. This was written for the drive-a comm in LJ. This is one of the three fairy tale AUs written by the **poisoned apples **team. Check them all out! (I have them linked in my LJ. :D)

**Part I**

After checking his room many times to make sure he hadn't left anything, Kunimitsu made his way down the marble staircase and out of the Grand Foyer. His mother, Ayana Tezuka, Dowager Countess of Kestral, met him at the doorway and took his arm as they set out to the courtyard where two closed coaches, each pulled by a pair of horses, waited. "All set?" the Countess asked.

Kunimitsu nodded, his eyes fixed on a footman who had just lifted a box neatly labeled "History" off the ground. After a few steps, the footman stumbled on a stray pebble, and, if anyone were looking, one would have seen Kunimitsu's eyes widen. Thankfully, another footman aided the first, saving the box from a surely disastrous fall, and the two loaded the box into the second carriage.

"What a tragedy if Kunimitsu lost his history books," Hana, Kunimitsu's eldest sister said dramatically as she stood abreast Reika, the younger one of her two sisters. The sisters exchanged mischievous glances, but eventually attempted at straight faces when their mother arched her brows at them.

Kunimitsu and the Countess stopped right next to the first coach, and the Countess, pushed by that motherly impulse, couldn't help but make sure that her youngest child and only son looked nothing short of perfect. She fixed the lace of his shirt and the collar of his coat, and she brushed off lint that only she could see. "You look dashing, Kunimitsu," Countess Ayana observed. "Certainly you'll catch the eyes of the ladies in the University." She beamed, her eyes glinting teasingly at her son.

"But Mama, he is going to Alcian University. Only men go there," Hana reminded.

"Their sisters and cousins also come to visit," Ayana replied happily.

Reika chortled, causing the Countess to smile widely but sharply at her. She coughed and said, "Well, Kunimitsu would sooner marry his books than any lady he meets. I wouldn't be surprised if he scares or bores another lady off."

Ayana turned inquiringly to Reika and asked, "What do you mean another lady?"

"Ah, Mama," Hana said, "You remember Lady Yuki from the Mayday ball? She obviously fancied Kunimitsu." She pressed her lips and shook her head disappointedly. "She realized that she couldn't wait for him to take action so she approached him and tried to engage him into a conversation. Unfortunately, they were inside a library then so, well…" she heaved a sigh to show her dismay.

Amused, the Countess eyed her son curiously. Kunimitsu merely said, "I've heard of her. She doesn't know how to count to a hundred."

"Kunimitsu," Hana started, "If you want to marry a woman who meets your expectations, you might as well wait till the King allows you to marry one of your books."

"It is not my fault that women in this kingdom do not have any ambition other than marrying the most eligible bachelor in town," Kunimitsu replied in a quiet voice.

Hana rolled her eyes. "Reika and I are not without ambition. We just don't see why we should be stuck reading old, molding books when we could be building a fine family instead."

Smiling at her children, Ayana said briefly, "Now, now." As her daughters approached to embrace their brother, she craned her head to the sky and saw the dark clouds above. Lines of worry crossed her face. "It looks like rain, Kunimitsu," she said as the sisters released Kunimitsu from what looked like an uncomfortable hug. "Are you sure you want to leave now?"

Kunimitsu likewise checked the sky and pursed his lips. "I can't stay or I'll miss the Welcome Assembly tomorrow."

"Besides, Mama," Reika piped, "you shouldn't delay your son's journey to great knowledge." Her lips formed a half-joking, half-serious grin.

"Very well," the Countess said. "Write me if there's anything you need." She tiptoed to give her son a kiss, which made him feel a bit disgruntled but not quite displeased. "I already wrote Mr. Shinwa to reserve a room for you tonight."

Giving a last nod to his mother, Kunimitsu climbed into the coach and made himself comfortable on the cushioned seat. As the coach trotted off, from some distance, he heard one of his sisters yell, "Don't study too much!" He smiled faintly at this, not quite taking the advice to heart. He then opened the box beside him (it was labeled "Novels"), and took a book from the top layer. He opened the book and spent the rest of the afternoon poring over it.

The anticipated rain started from mid-afternoon and the cloud continued to look more ominous as the day progressed. Even as they reached the Oleander Inn at dusk, Kunimitsu could hear the rain pitter-pattering angrily. Thus, cold and bedraggled, Kunimitsu couldn't help feeling grateful that the coaches were finally being pulled to a stop inside inn's stables.

Mr. Shinwa, the innkeeper, welcomed him with zeal – his mother, after all, was a regular patron because of her monthly travels to visit her family's farm in the West. He led Kunimitsu to a room at the farthest end of the third floor, which was to Kunimitsu's liking; here, he would be far from the noise of the other patrons who spent the night dancing and drinking.

The innkeeper inquired after his preferred meal, and promised to send a maid to prepare a warm bath for him. "Is there anything else, my lord?"

"Is there a nearby shop where I can buy ink and paper?" Kunimitsu asked, taking off his clothes and setting it neatly on a hanger.

"Yes, sir," Mr. Shinwa replied informatively. "It's right across the corner of this street. But you can't be thinking of going there now, sir? It's still pouring."

"I'll ask for a meal when I return."

"Very well, my lord." Mr. Shinwa bowed politely and left the room.

In what felt like seconds later, a maid came knocking on his door and prepared the bath for him. Eager for warmth, Kunimitsu immersed himself in the lukewarm water and cleansed himself as thoroughly as he could. Then he changed into a clean set of shirt and trousers and trudged downstairs. He borrowed an umbrella from Mr. Shinwa and walked to the shop in rain.

The shop, named The Quill according to the piece of wood that hung just above the door, was empty save for the shopkeeper and another customer who was looking at a display of brushes on a glass cabinet. Kunimitsu approached the shopkeeper, asked for a quill and a piece of parchment, and wrote down what he wanted to buy – mostly bottles of ink (red, blue, black, green), eagle-feather quills (50 pieces) and a sheaf of parchment paper (letter size).

"Buying school supplies too?"

Kunimitsu looked up from his order sheet, surprised to see a pleasant face smiling cheerfully at him. The only other customer had approached him very quietly, looked over his shoulder to his list and was now waiting for an answer. He blinked, showing a faint annoyance. He never did like inquisitive strangers. Nonetheless, he nodded.

"You're starting at Alcian, aren't you?" the other person inquired, his blue eyes crinkled as he remained smiling.

Kunimitsu handed the list to the shopkeeper, who checked it once and set off to collect the items. Frowning, he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry but how do you know?"

The stranger grinned. "It's the closest University from here. It's also the best, and you look like you want the best education," he said matter-of-factly, still smiling as he studied Kunimitsu's appearance. "And returning students order supplies by mail and usually leave them at the dormitory."

"You seem to know a lot about it," Kunimitsu remarked dryly, a little miffed that a stranger could read him so accurately.

"I'm a new student myself and my father is a graduate of Alcian," the stranger said. He held out a hand and said, "Syusuke Fuji, Marquis Alhandri."

Raising a brow, Kunimitsu gave Syusuke a calculating gaze. As far as Kunimitsu has heard, Marquis Alhandri was a prince to his own right; after all, the title was old, illustrious and affluent (though not without blemish if Kunimitsu were to judge by what he had been hearing about the Duke Alhandri and his problems with his relatives). Indeed, the Marquis' privileged status in society was evident in the way the he carried himself. There was a confident grace in the way he stood and a careless ease in the way he spoke that reflected the air of a real prince.

After a few seconds of silence, Kunimitsu took the offered hand and shook it briefly."Kunimitsu Tezuka."

"The Earl of Kestral," said the Marquis thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "I've heard of you," he added sedately.

Kunimitsu gazed at Syusuke steadily, waiting for the attack on the Tezuka family, which was now simply a noble name, deprived of the fortune that has long been corrupted by the early members of the family. Or perhaps, the Marquis would give some remark on how his mother, formerly Ayana Kirisaki - without title but definitely not without fortune – brought wealth to the Tezukas and saved them from bankruptcy and shame.

"You're that Earl who published an essay on the history of education in the Kingdom, aren't you?" Before Kunimitsu could even get over his shock, the Marquis spoke again, "I haven't read it, but my sister has, and she says that you write like you've had years of university education."

Not quite knowing how to react to this, Kunimitsu merely nodded and said, "It was for an essay contest." He averted his attention to the glass case behind the counter and wished the Marquis would stop looking at him and talking to him. He never liked being scrutinized, and there was a constant studying penetration in the Marquis' smiling gaze. It made him very conscious of himself and very aware of the Marquis. He also hated small talk, which was, in his opinion, a complete waste of time.

Fortunately for him, the shopkeeper arrived before the Marquis could decide what to talk about next. "Here are the brushes, paint and the canvas you asked for, my lord," the shopkeeper said, bowing and giving a huge box to the Marquis, who paid for it. The Marquis then smiled at Kunimitsu, who had, despite himself, turned to the Marquis in wonder.

"I major in Classical Arts," the Marquis explained, answering Kunimitsu's unvoiced question. "Well, not yet. Father enlisted me for Economics, but I'm going to switch once I reach Alcian." He dropped his voice. "Just don't tell anyone." He winked at Kunimitsu and nodded convivially. "Well, excuse me. My carriage is waiting. I'll see you in Alcian, I suppose?"

Still a bit disconcerted by this exchange, Kunimitsu nodded blankly. When the Marquis had gone, Kunimitsu waited impatiently for his supplies, hoping that the thundering rain wouldn't get worse before he reached the inn. When the shopkeeper emerged from the stockroom, he paid hurriedly for his things and trudged off as quickly as he could. He was at the doorstep of the Quill, silently cursing the strong rain while trying to open the umbrella with one hand and balancing the rest of his new purchases with the other, when a carriage door suddenly swung open in front of him. He looked up and saw the Marquis beaming at him.

"I didn't see another carriage around so I thought you might have walked," the Marquis said. He was slouched lazily on the seat as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Come in or your paper will get wet."

Kunimitsu tried to calculate the smile, and he couldn't for the life of him see anything hostile in it. Besides, the rain was terrible and he didn't want his scrolls to get soaked. So he climbed up and murmured his thanks albeit sullenly. He took the seat beside the Marquis just so he could avoid the other's eyes, but the Marquis kept watching him, an extremely pleased smile plastered on his face.

Kunimitsu shifted on his seat to face the window, but he met the Marquis' eyes on the reflection.

*-*-*-*

Syusuke couldn't help but smile to himself when he met the Earl's eyes. There was something curiously amusing in the Earl's seeming lack of reaction to Syusuke's more than blatant observing gazes.

More importantly, though, at the back of his head, Syusuke had already drawn dozens of sketches of the Earl, painted them to perfection, held them on exhibit, auctioned a few and kept the rest (not to mention the best) for himself. Perhaps this was why the Earl drew him in: Syusuke found a perfect subject in the Earl. The Earl's façade would be a mystery to many. It would be puzzling for people to see many pictures of what seemed like the same thing over and over and over again when he the artist knew the subtle differences in all the artworks, and Syusuke took great pleasure in puzzling everybody.

"You have a nice profile," Syusuke suddenly said halfway through the rainy trip back to the inn. He saw lines form and disappear from the Earl's forehead, and he couldn't help grinning to himself. He leaned sideways toward the Earl and raised his left hand to trace a line from the middle of the Earl's hairline, down his forehead, his nose and… he stopped when the Earl opened his eyes in alarm. Syusuke dropped his hand and nodded to himself convincingly, "You have a nice profile."

The Earl furrowed his brows and Syusuke nearly laughed. He had a feeling the Earl thought him insane. Perhaps he was. Just a little, though.

"When an artist says 'You have a nice profile,'" he started explaining, adapting the tone one of his governesses used whenever they entered a new topic in arithmetic (his worst subject, which was why he simply couldn't take Economics), "It usually means 'Will you be my subject?'"

"No."

"What was that?" Syusuke leaned his head closer to the Earl, as if he hadn't heard the first time.

"When a person says 'No,' he usually means 'No."

Syusuke blinked and threw his head back with a small laugh. "Artists don't understand 'No.'"

The Earl straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest. Looking decidedly serious, he said, "The honor of adding a new word to your vocabulary is all mine."

Syusuke arched a brow, not quite surprised but nonetheless amused by this display of a snappy sense of humor. He wondered though how the Earl could manage to deliver a witty remark without moving a muscle. It must hurt. "I might be hard to teach. I've always been told that I am stubborn," he said contemplatively. When the Earl did not answer, Syusuke crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. "Are you taking History?"

"No," the Earl said curtly.

"What then?" Syusuke asked, meaning to entice the Earl into as much conversation as he could just so he could see the vestigial reactions on the Earl's face.

"Political Science," was the Earl's short answer.

At that moment, the carriage was slowing down by the inn's entrance. Syusuke caught the Earl release a sigh of what definitely sounded like relief, and he bit his lip to fight back a chuckle. The Earl glared at him and he only smiled innocently. When the carriage had come to a full stop and the door had been opened by a footman, the Earl instantly took his box of supplies and stepped out of the carriage. He nodded curtly to Syusuke and walked away.

Syusuke watched the Earl walk into the inn before leaving the carriage himself. He felt as if his smile had become a permanent fixture on his face. Oftentimes, he had to remind himself to smile, nod, smile again – as was proper (or so society dictated). But this time, he was sure he wasn't forcing the smile.

As he walked into the inn's small reception area, he met Mr. Shinwa who asked what he would have for supper. He had a sudden spark of a brilliant idea that must have lit his entire face judging by the curious look on the innkeeper's face. "In what room is the Earl of Kestral staying?" When the innkeeper had given him an answer, he gave his orders to Mr. Shinwa and added, "Bring them all to the Earl's room. Thank you."

Leaving the innkeeper very puzzled, Syusuke went to his room for a change of clothes. As he paced the room, pulling up pants, putting on a shirt and tying his shoelaces, he couldn't help but beam proudly to himself.

As soon as he had checked his reflection on the full-body mirror attached to the wall of his room and concluded that he looked more than presentable, Syusuke began walking to the other end of the hall. The carpeted hallway was getting remarkably quieter and quieter as he walked away from his room. By the time he reached the wooden door that had '306' embossed on a bronze plaque, he could no longer hear the clapping and the yelling and the music from the dining area. Without even knocking, he reached for the brass knob, turned it and pushed the door open.

Right across the room, standing before a small, round dining table, the Earl was telling a maid, "I didn't ask for all of these."

"But sir – "

"I asked for them," Syusuke interrupted helpfully, taking a few steps toward the table. The lines of apprehension disappeared from the maid's face. "Thank you for bringing them here," he said, cheerfully addressing the maid. The maid in turn bobbed into a hasty curtsy and left the room with an empty trolley of food.

Looking extremely vexed and annoyed, the Earl scowled at Syusuke and said, "You have your own room."

"I do," Syusuke replied, pulling a chair standing before the table and settling comfortably on it. He crossed his legs and looked around him as if every inch of the room – the walls, the cracks, the draperies, the carpet – interested him. "I just thought it might be pretty quiet and lonesome in this room. You can't possibly enjoy your meal when your room's like that, can you?"

"Fortunately," the Earl said gruffly, still standing and fixing Syusuke a steady gaze, "I can."

Acting as if he hadn't heard and as if he couldn't see the Earl glowering at him, Syusuke reached for a red bottle of strawberry wine. "You drink?" he said, pouring a generous volume of the liquor into a crystal goblet. Perhaps the Earl had gotten tired of staring or perhaps he realized that he couldn't drive Syusuke away by staring so he gave Syusuke a quick nod and took the chair across the table from Syusuke. Pleased with himself, Syusuke poured wine into another goblet and passed it to the Earl who drank the contents in one swig.

A little surprised and somewhat impressed, Syusuke followed the Earl's lead and drank his wine in one gulp. "Steak?" he asked cheerfully, indicating the generous slabs of grilled steak on a silver platter at the center of the table. Without a word, as if he was already learning that arguing with Syusuke would bring more harm than good, the Earl helped himself to steak and some carrots and corn. Then he started eating.

Syusuke likewise got some steak. But instead of eating, he leaned back and watched the Earl eat. After a couple of minutes, the Earl stopped and frowned, asking, "Did you put anything on my steak?"

Blinking, Syusuke realized he hadn't touched his food at all and he was biting his lower lip while watching the Earl. He grinned and said, "You look amazing even when you're eating."

The Earl pressed his lips perhaps torn between annoyance at Syusuke who just barged into his room and a little wonder at this person who just gave him a compliment. "What does that mean now?" The Earl asked shortly.

Syusuke smiled. "I still want to paint you," he said frankly. He took his fork and knife and attempted to eat. But after a while of silence save for the sound of clanking metal against metal, he asked, "How many ladies' hearts have you broken?" When the Earl didn't answer, Syusuke said, "A lot, I suppose."

"Don't you have to leave early tomorrow?" The Earl suddenly asked a little after they had both finished their steaks. He didn't even bother to make an effort to conceal the fact that he wanted to rid his room of Syusuke.

"Mm?"

The Earl took a sip of water. "You have to change your registration, haven't you?" he asked, smacking his lips. "You're supposed to do that before the assembly."

Syusuke narrowed his eyes in calculation. "Well, I do know where I am not wanted," he said tragically. He caught the Earl roll his eyes, and Syusuke grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow then. And I'll just ask a maid to clean this up," he said, rising from his seat. "Good night."

Though he had neither the intention to sleep nor to get ready for an early departure from the inn, Syusuke changed into sleeping clothes and lay in bed once he was in his own bedchamber. There he stayed staring at the white canopy of the oval bed, his head racing with thoughts of the Earl, the many portraits he could paint with the Earl as subject. Feeling restless, he rose from bed and from the carpeted floor he picked up his sketch pad and his pencil.

**Part II**

"Marquis Alhandri has just been made Duke," Shuichiro said, pointing at the headline of i_the Gazette/i_. He hastily shoved some of Kunimitsu's books to one side of the table, causing the Earl to sigh exasperatedly, and he put the broadsheet on top of the table and on top of Kunimitsu's homework. "It says here 'Former Marquis Alhandri, Syusuke Fuji has been named Duke Alhandri on the fifth day of November… The event followed the tragic deaths of the Duke, Duchess and their two children Lady Yumiko Fuji and Lord Yuuta Fuji in an accident at the bridge of Lahendra."

Kunimitsu looked at i_the Gazette/i_. Didn't he just see the Duke of Alhandri (then still Marquis Alhandri) a couple of weeks ago? But then again, Syusuke hadn't been showing up for two weeks now, which Kunimitsu admittedly found odd since Syusuke had been popping out of nowhere nearly every day since they first met in the Oleander Inn. He didn't exactly miss Syusuke, but he did wonder whether or not Syusuke had finally given up trying to convince him to be a subject in a painting, and whether or not Syusuke had decided to pursue someone else. Since Kunimitsu thought either case was entirely convenient, he had long decided to stop wondering what happened to Syusuke.

"It says here he won't be coming back to Alcian any time soon," Shuichiro added, finally folding i_the Gazette/i_ and setting it aside. "He must feel terrible," he said, looking genuinely worried.

Kunimitsu pulled a book from the pile on the table. "The family died in an accident?" He appeared nonchalant as he asked.

"That's what the news says," Shuchiro said. They both went quiet and decided not to say what they thought. The former Duke of Alhandri had long been involved in some form of family quarrel. Some said he oppressed the workers of his business. Some said he extorted his tenants. Of course he had the rich relatives who wanted him killed to get the Dukedom. In other words, a lot of people could have planned his death and made it look like an accident. The police, of course, wouldn't say anything of the crime especially if other rich people were involved and were being investigated.

Pushing the unpleasant thought off his mind, Kunimitsu opened the book and said, "Get back to work. We need to finish this essay tonight."

*-*-*-*

His seemingly eternal smile gone, his lips forming a cold line, Syusuke stared blankly at the long report in his hands. His eyes were glassy and emotionless. When he spoke, his voice was controlled. But it was hollow and cool, like he wasn't feeling anything, like his soul was empty and cold. "Mr. Toyama," he said, calling the family butler. "From now on, let no one enter the house. Fire the staff. Only you and Mrs. Inoue and your families are allowed to work in the manor. Fire the family accountant. Get a new one every two months. Don't let anyone stay long enough to betray us. All business transactions will have to be approved by me."

"But, sir, that's a lot of work. If we'll just select the trustworthy staff –"

Syusuke folded his hands together and turned his glazed eyes at the butler. "You, Mrs. Inoue and Eiji are only staying here because you have a bond with my family." He let his words linger and he smiled poisonously, his eyes emotionless.

The butler's eyes widened. He was clearly terrified at this sudden change in the young master's demeanor. He wondered what the report contained that it turned the usually light-hearted Duke into a cold, unfeeling master. All the same, he bowed and left the room to talk to Mrs. Inoue, the head cook.

Inside the parlor, Syusuke got up and strolled toward the fireplace. With his back facing the sheriff, his eyes fixed on the family portrait on the wall above the fireplace, he said, "Keep this quiet. Tell everyone it's an accident."

"Very well, Your Grace," the sheriff said.

"You may leave."

"Good night, Your Grace," the sheriff said.

When Syusuke heard the door close, he rang the bell hanging near the fireplace. Nearly at once, Mr. Toyama was beside him. "Your Grace?"

"Take the portrait down. Take everything I painted down. Burn them. Sell them. Throw them away. I don't want to see them again."

**Part III**

A rare sense of sentimentality washed over Kunimitsu as he looked at the bookcase in his bedroom in the attic. The lone, narrow bookcase was a sad contrast to the vast library he remembered at their old home before the accident happened. The library held everything from family history to novels to foreign books while this rickety bookcase that came free with the empty house only contained Kunimitsu's favorites, the ones he simply couldn't part with and some other books considered useless since no one would buy them. But among the books was a green leatherbound notebook where Kunimitsu fastidiously listed who bought each book. One day, he thought fervently, he would buy the books back and rebuild the library.

"Kunimitsu?"

He turned to the creaking door and saw Reika holding it open and poking her head in. "Supper is ready," she informed him.

Kunimitsu couldn't help but sigh as he walked out of the room. He quietly followed his sister down the narrow, creaky staircases leading to the kitchen that doubled as their dining room. They found the kitchen a mess. Vegetable peelings, knives and a chopping board lined the counter near the sink. The stove was filled with burnt pans piled on top of each other. A single pot was on top of a live fire, and it emitted an unappetizing gurgling noise.

As Reika joined Hana and their mother on the round wooden dining table, Kunimitsu went to get the pile of pans from the stove, dumped them into the sink and let a bit of water run over them. The women were huddled together, poring over something on Hana's hand. When Kunimitsu took one fo the seats before the table, he asked, "Hana, did you burn your hand again?"

Hana pursed her lips. "Yes," she said as Reika and Ayana both settled to their seats. "But we ran out of salve."

"I'll be going out to buy some at the apothecary after supper," Ayana said thoughtfully.

His brows wrinkling, Kunimitsu threw a glance at the window above the sink and saw a starless sky. "It might snow. I'll get the salve."

Ayana shook her head. "No, dear. I also need to set things up for the shop's opening. I still need to buy some cloth and yarn. I doubt you'll be able to do that for me, Kunimitsu," she said. She rose and took four bowls from the cupboard and began serving whatever it was that was in the pot (Hana said it was vegetable soup but Reika said it wasn't any kind of soup she had ever eaten).

Though Kunimitsu didn't like the idea of his mother going out at night at a still rather foreign place, he knew he couldn't object to his mother, not when she was elated by the prospect of her shop's opening. She deemed herself very fortunate indeed to be moving on again after the fire that ate the farm and to be starting her own business again. It was a small business, a shop for dresses and embroidery that Ayana and her daughters would sew but it would be a stable source of income, especially since, as Mrs. Kawashima, a portly old lady who lived nearby, said, the town hadn't seen someone with such an excellent sewing hand before Ayana. For once, Kunimitsu was glad that his mother learned embroidery when she was a lady, and had passed the skill to his sisters. He used to think that embroidery was for vain ladies who would rather sew than read. But he was beginning to realize his mistake now.

He now was the one who was beginning to feel foolish. He knew nothing but reading and no one in town was willing to hire him. He had no expertise to speak of unless math, history and language counted. He couldn't mold metal. He couldn't carve wood. He couldn't butcher pigs. He couldn't even bake. Because of this, he had no idea how to help his mother earn some income. The only thing he could do was haul sacks of wheat to the bakery for a meager sum.

"Is something bothering you?"

He looked up and saw his mother watching him closely. She pushed a bowl of a brackish liquid with very dark hints of potatoes and carrots towards him, and took the seat to his right. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he lied although he knew his mother would recognize the lie immediately. He tried a mouthful of the soup and was relieved that it wasn't as bad as it looked. It was a tad bit saltier than he would have liked but it didn't taste as deadly the "chicken stew" Hana attempted the night before, which eventually had them eating bread and cheese and downing glasses of milk.

"I believe I've told you how I know when you're lying?" Ayana said with an amused grin. "Your philtrum sweats and your brows wrinkle right here," she said, pointing between her eyebrows. She tasted the soup and turned to Hana, "A bit less salt and soy, dear, and I think you'd perfect this." She turned to her son again and said, "You're worried about finding a job."

Kunimitsu pressed his lips and nodded.

"I'm sure someone would be willing to take you in as an apprentice soon enough," Ayana said reassuringly. "Our neighbors just don't know how brilliant you are at whatever you do. Give them time," she added with one of her motherly smiles.

Kunimitsu nodded quietly. As he ate, he wondered how to convince people to accept him at any job. He couldn't apply for an apprenticeship saying he could recite the history of the kingdom, could he?

When they finished eating, Ayana stood up and said, "Well, I best be off now. If the snow doesn't stop, I'll just ask Madam Miyazaki for a room in her inn so you three shouldn't worry about me." She climbed upstairs to get her coat and went down at the living room to bid her children a good night. "Kunimitsu, you may sleep in my room if it snows. It's bound to be cold in the attic. Now, Hana," she called to the kitchen door, where she could see Hana piling the used bowls, "Let Reika wash the dishes. You might infect your burns if you do it yourself." She clutched her coat to herself and held the door open. "I don't want to see you three awake when I return, do you hear?"

"Yes, Mama," Reika said meekly, stepping to the door to give Ayana a peck on the cheek. "Be safe."

"Good night, dears."

When Ayana had left and Reika had closed the door, Kunimitsu entered the kitchen where Hana was dumping things into the sink, and said, "I'll wash the dishes, Hana."

Reika yawned and took Hana's arm, steering the latter away from the sink. "I wouldn't mind sleeping now," Reika said. "But you should sleep too, Kunimitsu. Don't wait for Mama to arrive. She'll be after our blood if she finds out that we let you wait for her."

Kunimitsu didn't see a need to object so he nodded, hoping to do some reading before sleeping.

After washing the dishes, Kunimitsu extinguished all the candles and carrying a lit lamp he crept quietly to the attic. He grabbed a book from the bookcase and climbed to bed. He placed the lamp on top of a small bedside table and adjusted himself closer to the wall so that the dim light from the lamp could illuminate the pages of his book. Reading was a habit he was not willing to give up for this new life, and he tried to do as much reading as he could even after days of hauling sacks. He tried to borrow from the bookshop and from the school teachers thus gaining him the rather disadvantaged – in this town, anyway – reputation of an intellectual. It was a pity, though, that the books he borrowed were not of the sort he wanted; they were mostly novels and instructions for some craft he didn't understand. The only library in town was in the mansion of the Duke Alhandri, who according to the townspeople was not likely to let anyone inside the house let alone into the library. The word on the Duke's increasing hostility puzzled Kunimitsu; he could never imagine an unsmiling, wry Syusuke. Then again, he had not known the Duke long enough to judge. Besides, the Duke wanted something from him that perhaps the Duke was being nice to get what he wanted. Once or twice, though, Kunimitsu had admittedly considered approaching the Duke for permission to use the library in exchange for being a subject in one painting. He dismissed the thought immediately, however; he wasn't yet that desperate to trade his peace for books.

He read a couple more hours until sleep finally dawned on him, triggered by the cold brought by the falling snow. Seven hours later, shuffling feet and excited voices downstairs woke him up. He blindly searched for his glasses on the bedside table and he put them on, wondering what the commotion was all about. He rose from bed, headed to the bathroom downstairs for a quick wash, and finally went to the kitchen where the noise was coming from.

"An actual porridge," he heard Reika exclaim in glee as he entered the kitchen where he saw his sisters huddled around their mother in front of the stove. His stomach grumbled a little when he smelled the rich, creamy scent of chocolate rice porridge. "No offense meant, Hana," Reika added quickly.

Hana laughed. "I missed actual food too."

"It's just about ready," Ayana said, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her arm. "Hana, set the bowls and the spoon. Reika, get the milk from my basket."

Kunimitsu quietly took a seat on a chair before the dining table. He watched his sister rummage through the contents of the basket on the counter, and he vaguely pondered where his mother could have gotten all the food stock. From what he could see, there were also slices of ham, bread, several eggs and some pastries inside the basket, and he didn't think his mother was all that impractical to spend whatever money they had left on lavish meals.

Hana was the one who voiced out Kunimitsu's question as she set the utensils on the table. "How did you get these, Mama?"

Carrying the pot to the table, Ayana smiled pleasantly. She did not answer the question until she had finished ladling generous servings of porridge into four bowls. "I was on the forest last night when it started snowing," she said as her children begun eating. "I met one of the servants of the mansion, and he insisted that I spend the night there –"

Reika's eyes widened. "The mansion? Mama, have you met the Duke then?" she asked excitedly. Beside her, Kunimitsu pressed his lips. "I heard he's quite dreamy," she said with a sigh.

"But I heard he's quite hostile," Hana reminded.

"I haven't seen the Duke I'm afraid. The butler told me that I would be better off walking outside in the snow than to have the Duke learn that I was in the mansion," their mother said thoughtfully. "Nonetheless, they welcomed me in the servants' wing and let me sleep there. They tried to have me eat breakfast with them, but I told them that you might worry so instead they filled my basket. They say they have plenty of stocks because there are very few of them in the mansion and the supplies come as they used to when the rest of the family was still alive. It would be a waste to throw them."

"Lucky that it snowed last night then," Reika said gleefully. "Otherwise, we'll be eating Hana's inventions."

Hana feigned a hurt expression. But then she laughed and continued eating heartily.

Kunimitsu was halfway through his first real meal in weeks when Ayana said, "Kunimitsu, are you planning to go to town today?"

Putting his spoon down, Kunimitsu nodded. The baker offered him a job of delivering the bread to the larger, richer houses. He had considered taking it. "Why? Is there anything you need?"

"No, dear," Ayana said quietly. "Are you still going to look for a job?"

"Yes, mama," Kunimitsu replied.

Ayana smiled happily at him. "I might have found you work. It might be a bit hostile at first but I think you'll find the people very generous."

Kunimitsu raised a brow. His mother sounded all too conniving. All the same, he let her continue.

"The Duke Alhandri is in need of a bookkeeper. A trustworthy one," Ayana said enthusiastically. "Mr. Toyama said that nobody's really willing to apply for the position because it only lasts two months so it's open for you if you want it."

"But, Mama," Hana said, quickly wiping her lips with a napkin, "it won't be a good position at all if Kunimitsu can only work for two months."

Still smiling, Ayana shook her head. "They all think that no one's really going to apply for the job in a while – unless their master changes. So he said that if indeed Kunimitsu proves excellent and trustworthy, he might be hired permanently. And the Duke need never know."

Kunimitsu frowned at his bowl of porridge, thinking.

Ayana must have noticed this because she asked, "Do you want to accept the offer? If you don't want to, it is fine." She smiled one of her motherly smiles. "I just thought that you really wouldn't mind spending time in the library to supplement the education that you're missing."

Shaking his head, Kunimitsu said, "I do want to work there. I merely wondered why they have such strange arrangements with employees."

Tilting her head, obviously mulling this over, Ayana shrugged. "It seems as if they have an irrational fear of their master. It might be baseless," she said quietly. "But, dear, if you think that the Duke is not treating you well, you should come home. Any sum is too meager for any kind of ill-treatment."

Furrowing his head in thought, Kunimitsu nodded. Although somehow he doubted that the Duke would hurt him, he did want to know whatever happened to the Syusuke he thought he knew.

*-*-*-*

Arrangements for Kunimitsu's move into the mansion were settled in without much ado. Mr. Toyama instantly approved of him that although Kunimitsu vowed he did not have experience in bookkeeping until after the time of the accident, the butler ignored the remark welcomed him and told him he could move in any time he was ready. (Well, either Mr. Toyama trusted him or he was desperate enough to hire anybody who applied.) Thus, in a couple of days, Kunimitsu was back with his trunk of clothes, books, paper and quill and was ushered by the wide-eyed stable boy named Shiro into one of the rooms in the servants' wing.

The room was smaller than his old room in the city but it was far warmer and bigger than his attic room. It was modestly furnished; a writing desk and a chair stood beside the window; an armchair stood cozily by the fire; the four-poster bed was lined with fleece sheets; an old wardrobe stood against the far wall. Kunimitsu knew he could make himself feel comfortable enough. Most importantly, though, it felt like a quiet place where he could get some reading done.

Just as Kunimitsu was neatly stuffing his clothes into the wardrobe, Shiro said he had to go back to tending the horses that were already feeling quite neglected, and so he left. Kunimitsu had been alone for a few minutes and had hung most of his shirts inside the wardrobe when a knock came from the door. He turned and saw the door swing open. Mrs. Inoue stepped inside wearing a cheery smile, and she invited him to dine with them.

Supper had been a long, cheerful affair – to most of the servants anyway. Kunimitsu merely spent the night observing them and listening to their conversation. Once or twice, he gave a comment but only when asked.

"Master hasn't been down in four days," Mrs. Inoue said worriedly amidst the slight squabble over what was pronounced her 'most excellent' blueberry pie. "Has he been eating?"

"But, Mama," her son Ryoma piped in, he looked about eight, and he had whipped cream on his face, "the monster eats kids."

From the other side of the table, Shiro coughed and snortled, but Mrs. Inoue shook her head fervently as she wiped the cream off her son's face. "He's not a monster, dear. He's just very sad, that's all."

"But he doesn't let me play around anymore," Ryoma mumbled.

Mrs. Inoue just smiled briefly at her son and turned to Mr. Toyama. "Has he been eating?"

Mr. Toyama nodded over his helping of blueberry pie. "Yes but he hardly finishes them."

"It's a pity," said Eiji the errand boy. Kunimitsu had so far only seen this boy once but he could see why he was the errand boy. He seemed lively and spirited, and he had quick, nimble hands and alert, wide eyes. "And an insult to Mrs. Inoue's cooking."

Shaking her head, Mrs. Inoue said sadly, "This should end soon. One of these days he will get sick of depression."

Eiji nodded enthusiastically. "Wallowing in depression is never a good thing."

Kunimitsu realized that Syusuke was more a subject of pity than fear to them. It was ironic and puzzling. A few months ago, he would never have believed that Syusuke could actually feel sad let alone depressed. But now, looking at the other servants' brooding faces, he knew they were speaking about a depressed, unstable master. The idea seemed to bother them too.

As if just remembering that they were with a newcomer, Mrs. Inoue smiled affably at Kunimitsu. "Sorry, dear. We don't mean to scare you away. Master is just facing a rough time. I'm sure that time will pass and he will be back to his old self. He is a much more pleasant person really."

"Kunimitsu," Eiji interrupted, "Aren't you an Earl? I heard you're an Earl. Are we supposed to call you 'My Lord'?"

Kunimitsu blinked. He had never given his rank a thought ever since the fire. "No. I'm only noble by name."

"But nobility is all in the name!" Eiji exclaimed.

Shaking his head, Kunimitsu replied, "Just call me Kunimitsu."

"Is it true then that you used to study in Alcian?" Mr. Toyama inquired gravely.

Kunimitsu pressed his lips. "Yes."

Mr. Toyama breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, good," he remarked. "You're competent enough. We don't want to find any other bookkeeper – "

"It's not like anyone else is willing to work for the master now," Mrs. Inoue said miserably. "It's a shame, really. Everybody used to love him. He was the light of this mansion," she said fondly, her eyes gleaming with the memory.

"But now," Eiji said in a purposely low and ominous voice, "he is the cloud of fear."

"Eiji," scolded Mr. Toyama. "Stop making fun of the master."

Pouting his lips, Eiji looked down to his pie. "It's true, though," he grumbled.

"Try losing your family all at once…you'll see," Mrs. Inoue snapped.

Eiji's eyes widened with terror. "All right, all right," he resigned and he occupied himself with the task of assaulting his pie.

The meal ended later with cups of hot chocolate as he had been told was customary during winter. He exchanged goodnights with the small group and left Mrs. Inoue trying to carry the sleeping Ryoma, Mr. Toyama fixing the table and Shiro whisking the dishes away. He walked with Eiji to their adjacent bedrooms, said a quick goodnight and went straight to bed. Thoughts of his new master were pushed back by a full, happy slumber.

He spent breakfast next morning with the rest of the staff. This time there was less chatter. Everybody seemed eager to start the day or, if Kunimitsu's hunch were correct, nobody seemed to like the idea of being caught idling about. Eiji offered to tour him around the house, saying there was time before he could be shown to his office. Mr. Toyama, Eiji said, would be the one to show him there but he had to wait before the master finished eating breakfast.

Eiji showed him the large rooms first – the grand hall, the ballroom, the main parlor, the main dining room, the family dining room. All were remarkably empty and dusty, like they haven't been used in at least a month now. What truly bothered Kunimitsu though were the patches on the walls in the middle of rows of portraits and paintings. The patches were lighter than the rest of the wall, as if paintings had just been removed from there.

"The master used to paint," said Eiji, probably noticing his wonder. "But when his family died, he made us take down all the things he drew and painted. He actually wanted us to throw them. Imagine that, throw paintings!" He grinned and dropped his voice, "Of course we didn't throw them. We keep them inside his parents' bedroom. He never goes there, you see."

Indeed, portraits and paintings were precious and expensive, Kunimitsu thought. And Syusuke's sketches were even more so. They were strangely realistic. They held the emotions his subjects felt. Even his scenic portraits could be associated with humanly moods. No wonder in the short time that Syusuke spent at Alcian, he was recognized as one of the best in Classical Arts.

"We can't go to the North Wing, I'm afraid," Eiji said as they continued to walk down the carpeted hallways, after passing what might have been fifty rooms. "It's the master's wing. He doesn't really let anybody there, except Mr. Toyama."

"Why not?" Kunimitsu inquired.

Eiji shrugged. "He doesn't trust anyone anymore, which is why there's very few of us left here. Thank goodness we can deal with all the housework."

The last, and to Kunimitsu the most important, place they went to was the library. People weren't exaggerating when they said it was enormous. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books sorted into different genres and categories. Some were in the old language, some were in foreign words. Others were novels, some were records and documents. Others were history books while the vast majority was on information. Next to the Central Alcian Library, this was the biggest collection of books Kunimitsu has ever seen. Thus, when Eiji said his office was the small writing room behind the door that had a plaque saying "Family Records" Kunimitsu felt himself overwhelmed with excitement – though none of it was betrayed by his calm face.

After making sure that Kunimitsu was well settled in the library, Eiji grinned and said he needed to be off to town to get some ingredients for the lunch Mrs. Inoue was planning. Once left in the library, Kunimitsu started to walk around occasionally climbing the tall ladder to check the books. He hadn't even seen the entire collection of history books when the giant oak door opened and showed Mr. Toyama in.

"Have you been waiting long?" Mr. Toyama asked, watching as Kunimitsu descended the ladder.

"No," Kunimitsu answered curtly as he landed back on the floor, and he let himself be ushered into the room of Family Records. The room smelled of old, humid paper that, Kunimitsu suspected, dated several centuries back. The room was cold as there was no fireplace so as to avoid fires that could burn the records and the library down. In the middle of the room was a desk on top of which were several quills, bottles of different ink colors, wooden stamps and a huge disarray of paper.

"This is a month's worth of records," Mr. Toyama said almost apologetically. "But," he said as he fumbled through the mountain of paper and retrieved a green leather-bound notebook that he handed to Kunimitsu, "the last bookkeeper made a very efficient way of sorting. You may adapt his method. Perhaps you'll find it easier."

Kunimitsu nodded quietly, accepting the notebook.

"You may, of course, bring some of the papers to your room since it's bound to be cold here."

In a moment, Mr. Toyama left the room, allowing him to consult the contents of the notebook.

*-*-*-*

Taking note of the backlog of accounts took Kunimitsu an entire week of work. He would have taken shorter if he hadn't been too finicky but he kept cross-checking the records and he kept recalculating his figures. He had always been fastidious by nature, but more than that he wanted to stay in this job and the only to attain that was to provide a flawless piece of work.

After he had finished his work for the last month and before actually starting on the past week's account, Kunimitsu picked out a history book from the main library room and treated himself to a light reading in the patio that led to the white, frozen garden. He still wasn't used to the winter cold in the north but he didn't mind it this afternoon especially since Mrs. Inoue offered him tea and biscuits to accompany his light reading. Besides, he needed fresh air after spending long hours in the record room.

He had been reading for an hour when the sky became too dark for reading so he decided to go back into the kitchen and offer help in preparing supper. He didn't know how to cook but over the past week he had learn how to peel and chop because Mrs. Inoue had the habit of putting everyone in the kitchen to work as she bustled over her cooking pots. Tonight, Mrs. Inoue announced, they were to have onion soup, chicken pie and apple tarts. The Duke, she said when her son asked, was to have pork steak, mashed potatoes, vegetables and cakes.

"Why can't we have cakes too, Mama?" Ryoma asked, watching in boredom as Kunimitsu chopped carrots on the countertop.

"Why can't we have steak too?" asked Eiji who was just wiping tears off his eyes as he was the one assigned to slice the onions.

Before Mrs. Inoue could give Eiji a friendly scolding, the door to kitchen opened and slammed. Shiro ran toward their small group at the counter, flushed and panting. "He knows! He knows!" he proclaimed. His eyes were wide with anxiety.

"He knows what?" Mrs. Inoue asked, handing Shiro a glass of water.

Shiro drank the water in one long gulp and said, "He knows about the Earl, and Mr. Toyama said we should prepare the dining table for the master and the Earl. The master wants to have dinner with the Earl."

Mrs. Inoue frowned. "Are you sure, dear?" she asked thoughtfully. "The master doesn't really care much about who we hire."

"But that's what Mr. Toyama said," Shiro replied in earnest. "I'm just passing the message."

"Then we shall do what the master wants," Mrs. Inoue said submissively though the wrinkles on her forehead told Kunimitsu that she was mulling this over. Kunimitsu couldn't blame her. Why Syusuke wanted to dine with him was beyond him especially after he learned that the Duke no longer painted. "Shiro, pull up a stool and take the knife from Kunimitsu," she told the stable boy. Then she turned to Kunimitsu. "You dear, you should prepare for dinner. Do you have formal clothes with you? Or would you like to borrow a set from Mr. Toyama? I can easily mend it to make it fit."

Kunimitsu politely shook his head, grateful that his mother ingrained to his head that one should always be ready to be dressed for any occasion.

"All right," Mrs. Inoue said, convinced. "Better go to your room then and prepare."

After being shooed like that by Mrs. Inoue, Kunimitsu had no choice but to obey. As he walked past several unoccupied servants' rooms, his head was deep in thought, digging for Syusuke's reason for wanting to dine with him. When he reached his room and his brain still drew a blank, he gave up thinking and decided that whatever Syusuke's reason was didn't matter that much. He simply just had to play his part.

Dinner time, to Mrs. Inoue's mind, came too soon. She practically dragged Kunimitsu to the family dining room, brushing invisible lint off his shirt and mumbling things like, "If he asks how you found out about this, tell him you heard it from the townspeople" and "Remember that you're supposed to be here only for two months." When they reached the door, Eiji held it open for them saying, "Why can't I dine with him too?"

Mrs. Inoue rolled her eyes. "Do you honestly want to have a meal with him? Now?"

Eiji shook his head. And then he grinned. "But I honestly want steak."

Mrs. Inoue pretended not to hear this and instead urged Kunimitsu to walk into the still empty family dining room. On top of a rectangular mahogany table were covered silver platters of what Kunimitsu assumed were the food. He sat on one end of the table and waited, not really sharing the anxiety Mrs. Inoue showed but instead feeling quite indifferent.

In a few minutes, the door opened but Mrs. Inoue and Eiji were gone. Instead, the Duke himself entered with Mr. Toyama trailing behind him. Kunimitsu instantly saw that Syusuke had changed. He was not wearing the smile that Kunimitsu was used to seeing since they first met. His eyes were devoid of the usual amused and mischievous glimmer; instead, they were pale and glassy. His skin was so white Kunimitsu was sure it hadn't been touched by sunlight for months. But more than that, Syusuke no longer carried himself in the elegantly carefree way; instead, he moved about in a cold, withdrawn manner.

"Duke Alhandri, Syusuke Fuji," announced Mr. Toyama, and Kunimitsu rose from his seat, bowing curtly. "Earl of Kestral, Kunimitsu Tezuka." Syusuke simply nodded coolly.

Without a word, Syusuke occupied the seat at the other end of the table and allowed Mr. Toyama to serve the meal. On the first few minutes of dinner, Kunimitsu thought that Syusuke was just observing him but would eventually ask him how he came to be at the mansion. He was wrong. During the entire meal, Syusuke did not breathe a word. When he wasn't eating, his blank eyes kept staring at dancing flames of the candles at the center of the table. Throughout the meal, Kunimitsu couldn't help thinking that Syusuke looked and acted like a ghost.

Only when Mr. Toyama finally put the plates away and started pouring black coffee into ceramic cups did Syusuke speak, "Mr. Toyama, you may leave."

Looking a little taken aback, Mr. Toyama shot a concerned look at Kunimitsu's way, but Kunimitsu nodded curtly, so the butler left, shutting the door behind him.

The dining room was so quiet since Mr. Toyama left that Kunimitsu couldn't help but feel a little bemused. Months before, Syusuke spoke to him about so many things, things that he never really wanted to know. But now, he didn't think Syusuke wanted to tell him anything. So why did Syusuke choose to come down here and have dinner with him?

"Why are you here?" Syusuke asked so suddenly and so coldly that Kunimitsu looked up and blinked before replying, "I'm here as a bookkeeper."

"You don't need this job."

Kunimitsu frowned. "Don't I?" he said in a toneless manner.

Syusuke gave Kunimitsu a long, penetrating look. "You are an Earl. Your mother is rich. You don't need this job. Why are you here?"

"I am an Earl," Kunimitsu said, his tone beginning to match Syusuke's cold one due to impatience, "But my mother is no longer rich, and I need this job."

Staring at the candlelight, Syusuke stared blankly at Kunimitsu who stared steadily back. Kunimitsu tore his eyes away quickly though and frowned in though. When he looked into Syusuke's eyes, he felt like he was looking into an empty shell. "Why are you here?" pressed Syusuke.

"I wanted a job," Kunimitsu said simply.

Syusuke pushed his coffee cup aside and stood up. Kunimitsu thought that was the end of their aimless conversation. But Syusuke walked to the flaming hearth, looked up at the white patch on the wall and said, "Fortune doesn't just evaporate."

"If accidents can take away lives, it can take away fortune," Kunimitsu said, meaning for the words to sink in. Impatience was starting to mount, and he was beginning to realize why the other servants didn't like being in the same room as Syusuke: he could feel and hear and see the change in Syusuke, the change that made the Duke so terribly empty.

A long silence lingered in the room. For the longest moment, the only thing Kunimitsu could hear was the crackling fire. And then, without turning his face away from the white patch on the wall, Syusuke said, "You may leave the room."

Syusuke's words were so cool and cutting that Kunimitsu's eyes widened when he heard them. But stubborn as he was, he didn't say a word and left. In his room, he changed into night clothes and tried to replay in his head the scenes of the conversation he had with Syusuke. But there was nothing to replay. They didn't talk to each other really. Kunimitsu couldn't even feel Syusuke's presence.

To shake the events of that evening off his head, Kunimitsu grabbed his favorite book from the desk. He flipped it open to the chapter he liked most, but two pieces of paper folded in half fluttered from in between the pages of the book down to the floor. He bent down to get it, and forgetting what he used to insert into the pages of his book and thinking they might be important, he unfolded the two pieces of paper. On one paper was a caricature of himself drawn for humor. The other one was a real sketch of himself, the likeness of which he was yet to see. These were Syusuke's own works. Syusuke who was then still Marquis left these at the door of Kunimitsu's rented room at the inn on the day of the assembly with a note saying: "I'll see you in Alcian. I believe I'll be seeing you every day… in my studio, perhaps? – Syusuke"

He had been annoyed the first time he saw the sketches, but he kept them still because the sketches made him aware of the possible value of Syusuke's art. But now, that Syusuke who wrote the note and drew the sketches was gone.

*-*-*-*

If anybody asked Kunimitsu how last night's dinner had been, Kunimitsu would have said that it went badly. He assumed that Syusuke shared his opinion. So when Mr. Toyama said that the Duke was expecting him at dinner again, he had to stare at Mr. Toyama for a while before realizing what the butler had said. After a few nights of shared meal with Syusuke where they didn't exchange any words at all, Kunimitsu concluded that Syusuke probably was just giving him the kind of treatment a Duke was expected to give an Earl. That was what Mr. Toyama and Mrs. Inoue thought too.

Three weeks have passed when Kunimitsu received a missive from his mother asking if he could go home. She said they had an important matter to discuss and she really needed to tell her son. Without sending word that he would be missing the usual dinner with Syusuke, he packed some of the foods that Mrs. Inoue said he should take with him and walked home, thinking that Syusuke wouldn't mind his absence at all.

Being home for dinner gave him a break from the tension he usually felt whenever he ate dinner with the Duke. Where Syusuke was always sullenly silent, his family was happily celebrating the news that they might be able to get hold of who started the fire. Though he didn't contribute to the chatter between her mother, her sisters and the inspector whom her mother hired to investigate the accident, he did feel the joy they felt.

A little before midnight, after the cups of hot chocolate had been emptied, Ayana convinced her son not to go back to the mansion yet, and with good reason. Snow had been falling since Kunimitsu left the mansion and snowfall had gotten even stronger tonight plus the winds had picked up, which would make it even harder for Kunimitsu to reach the mansion. Kunimitsu had agreed so he spent the night at home.

Though his mother tried to convince him the next morning to at least stay for breakfast, Kunimitsu declined and said he had to go before snow started falling again.

The mansion was a two-mile walk in snow from home that when Kunimitsu reached the mansion, he longed for the heat of a fire. Thankfully, when he entered the kitchen the huge fire was blazing and Mrs. Inoue was just preparing a warm breakfast of porridge and hot chocolate. From breakfast, the day continued just as any day usually did in the mansion. He had spent the rest of the afternoon poring over records and calculating numbers. It didn't end, however, in a silent dinner.

Over the meal, Syusuke had been noticeably edgy. His yes kept flitting from the candles at the center of the table to Kunimitsu's face. Over the usual cup of coffee, Syusuke said, "You went home last night."

Because Syusuke seemed to have been filled in with the details, Kunimitsu didn't see the need to say anything.

"I thought you needed this job," Syusuke continued coolly. "You must realize that you can't just come and go as you please."

Kunimitsu's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware that I couldn't go home if need be."

Syusuke didn't seem to like the matter-of-fact manner by which Kunimitsu responded because he said, "If you want to stay, you must stay. If you leave, you must leave for good."

Kunimitsu was much too proud to explain to Syusuke what had happened, and he doubted that Syusuke would try to understand – at least not in this current state of mind. More than that, he didn't feel obliged to obey Syusuke's whims – and this definitely sounded like a whim. Pushing his chair back, Kunimitsu got up and said, "I'm packing my things." Whatever Syusuke's reaction was, he wasn't able to see because he strolled out of the dining room without a glance back.

Ten minutes into the dark forest, harsh winds and merciless snow, Kunimitsu began to consider that perhaps this was not the time to parade his pride. He needed the money to help support his family and later on his ambitions. He knew that in this town, working as the Duke Alhandri's bookkeeper was the best deal he could get. But the way Syusuke acted and spoke made him indignant, and the Duke's wishes were so unreasonable he knew that he was bound to leave the mansion eventually. More than that, he had to be with his family. Right now, they needed his assistance to go through the investigation to prepare them to what would happen. It could fail, it could succeed. Either way, he needed to be with them.

Raising his lamp, Kunimitsu squinted to check a tree, dearly hoping that he hadn't gotten lost since he was beginning to feel as if the forest had grown larger. Unfortunately, the tree looked like the one he had passed five minutes ago, meaning he had been going around in circles. Normally, he had a good sense of direction but tonight, he couldn't see where he was going and he did believe what the old people in town told him about this forest: at night, it expanded and swallowed everything that walked into its midst. It wasn't some mystical belief though. It simply was the way forests were at night, probably because forests' façades changed at night, at night forests were alive.

To try avoiding getting lost again, Kunimitsu took the opposite of the direction he had followed when he first passed the tree, hoping this was the right path. He had been walking for nearly ten minutes when he hadn't seen the steep, rocky climb downward and he slipped a good five feet from where he started, hitting a boulder with his left arm, which he used to cushion the fall. A little shaken, he shakily stood up straight and tried to find shelter as quickly as possible. He knew that he couldn't get stuck in an unknown place in the forest. There, wild animals lived and hunted for food. In this weather, anything could be food. He could be food.

The shelter he found just a few yards off the trail was a tree that had been hollowed by vines. Its girth was wide that he could crawl into the hole and sit with his legs stretched as he unloaded his rucksack from his shoulders and laid the lamp on the thankfully dry ground. He inspected his hurting arm. It was red and warm and swollen. But at least it wasn't bleeding. No huge fracture then. Probably just a sprain. With his free hand, he searched his rucksack for a clean shirt and he immobilized his injured arm with it. He rested his head against the wall and not much later he had fallen asleep.

Kunimitsu stirred and wished he hadn't. His arm ached so terribly it felt like it was on fire. He opened his eyes and put on his glasses to check his arm and saw that it was set with an actual bandage and a sling, not the makeshift one that he used last night. Befuddled, he frowned and glanced around him, and he realized that he was back in his own room at the mansion. Oddly, he had no recollection of walking back to the mansion. He was sure that his pride wouldn't have allowed him to come back. Besides, even if he had lost his pride, he didn't think he would be able to reach the mansion without getting lost, not in last night's weather.

As if fate had decided that his questions must be answered, Eiji entered the room with a tray of what smelled like soup, toast, milk and water. "Oh, good, you're awake," he said happily, placing the food tray on his desk. He hovered to Kunimitsu and assisted the latter to a sitting position before placing the tray on Kunimitsu's lap. "Mrs. Inoue sent this food for you. You have to eat before you take the medicine. She said that the doctor said it will ruin your stomach if you don't eat first."

"The doctor?" Kunimitsu asked.

"Yes," Eiji said with a quick nod. "The master sent for a doctor last night. Can you eat with your right hand?"

Kunimitsu nodded, picking the spoon up with his uninjured hand and sipping the soup. It was hot and savory and it calmed his addled senses.

"I don't know which surprised me more – that the master went to the kitchen in the middle of the night to ask for you, that he actually went to the forest in the middle of the hailstorm to find you or that he actually ordered us to let a doctor into the mansion." Eiji nodded to himself in a contemplative manner. And then he shook his head in confusion. "What did you do to him?" he asked accusingly.

Kunimitsu blinked, showing that he had no idea what Eiji was talking about.

"Well, he looked…" Eiji paused, tilting his head to find the word, "scared when he found out that you had left. For a moment, I thought he was going to fire all of us for letting you leave. But I guess you really don't know… Just here, remember to take your medicine," he said, patting a brown bottle on the bedside table. "Mrs. Inoue said you should take two tablets after every meal. I'm going to the kitchen to tell everyone you're awake and then I'll be back to get the dishes."

Taking long springy steps to the door, Eiji left the room humming to himself.

Left alone, Kunimitsu tried to make sense of the things that Eiji told him. But his aching elbow must have been affecting his brain because he couldn't think straight. After finishing breakfast, he set the tray aside and took the medicine. A few minutes later, he was asleep again.

He woke up in time for lunch, but he didn't feel like eating again so he asked for a glass of warm milk before taking his medicine. This time, though Mrs. Inoue was extremely opposed to the idea, Kunimitsu rose from bed, ignoring the twitching pain on his arm and walked to the library to get a book. He was surprised when he saw Syusuke standing before the shelf that had "ART" on all of its rows. Syusuke was staring up at the books but he wasn't reaching for any. He just seemed to be looking at them without the intention of reading them.

He knew Syusuke saw him come in but he continued walking toward the shelf for history without acknowledging Syusuke. It was, however, Syusuke who spoke first from across the room. "Are you still planning to leave?"

"Perhaps."

"I see. You must hate me," Syusuke said and the way he said the words was remarkably childish, not like the unfeeling way he spoke last night. "Do you hate me?"

Kunimitsu grabbed a book on the history of Alcian University with his right hand and flipped it open. "I can't tell," he said firmly and truthfully.

"I see," Syusuke said before leaving the library.

Kunimitsu did not see that Syusuke's head was down. He did not hear Syusuke let out a sigh.

Dropping to the nearest couch, Kunimitsu tried to read the book. But his mind kept wandering to what Syusuke asked. Although he was much too proud to admit it to Syusuke, he needed the job. But he didn't want to compromise with Syusuke whose moods he didn't understand. And he refused to stay if he couldn't meet his family. Seeing as how Syusuke got destroyed by his family's death, he expected the Duke to understand that he had to be with his family. But then he couldn't discount the fact that Syusuke saved him last night. This somehow weakened his resolve to leave the mansion.

Later that night, over supper, his resolve to leave the mansion got completely shattered when Mr. Toyama appeared with the empty dishes of Syusuke's supper. He took a seat between Ryoma, who was messily eating his cake, and Eiji who was happily eating his second slice of the cake. He turned to Kunimitsu, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted as if he was trying to see something in Kunimitsu that he hadn't seen before. "The master said," he started, "that if you choose to stay, you cannot leave the mansion but your family may visit anytime."

Like the obviously gaping Shiro, Eiji and Mrs. Inoue, Kunimitsu was surprised by this news.

"Seems like he doesn't want you to leave," said Mrs. Inoue, the first one to recover from shock.

"Maybe…" Shiro started, pausing to swallow the cake in his mouth, "he realizes that he can't get another bookkeeper!"

"Perhaps," Mr. Toyama said. But Kunimitsu knew that the butler didn't agree because he continued to eye Kunimitsu intently.

*-*-*-*

For the next few nights, Kunimitsu shared dinner with the Duke again. They were back to the long, wordless meals. But this time, after every dinner, before Kunimitsu would leave to go back to work or to retire to bed, Syusuke would unfailingly ask, "Do you hate me?" Kunimitsu always replied with a curt, "I can't tell."

Kunimitsu had been back for a couple of weeks (his injury was completely healed for a week already) when Syusuke asked again, "Do you hate me?" This time Kunimitsu gave a different response. "Why do you keep asking?"

"I can't help it," Syusuke said staidly. His eyes were averted to the windows of the dining room. The reflection of the waning moon gave them a shimmer.

Kunimitsu left without really answering the question, wondering how his answer would matter to Syusuke. Pushing the thought away, he headed to the library to continue accounting the bills of the tenants for the next day's collection. Making the roster was tedious but Kunimitsu was glad that he was able to finish it just a little past midnight. He fixed the things on the table, sorted some of the papers into the shelves along the wall and, carrying the small lamp from the table, he opened the door. Just as he was closing the door, he spotted a figure walking across the main library. He focused his eyes, alert just in case a burglar had infiltrated the mansion. He relaxed with relief however when he recognized the figure as Syusuke, who was walking around, inspecting the books.

"Why are you here?" he asked in his usual deep, emotionless voice.

Syusuke didn't turn to look at him; instead, he ran his hands along a row of books on the shelf that said "FICTION." "I can't sleep," Syusuke said matter-of-factly.

Though Kunimitsu knew Syusuke couldn't see him, he nodded and went out of the library. As he closed the door, he thought he heard Syusuke say a faint "Good night."

Kunimitsu had been asleep for most of the night when he woke up feeling very thirsty. He crept quietly to the kitchen to get a glass of water, which he drank in one swig. For a moment, he debated whether to go back to sleep or to get the roster that he had wanted to check before sleeping but had been too sleepy take with him earlier. Feeling widely awake, he decided to go back to the library. He was crossing to the records room when he thought he heard a slow, steady breathing. When he turned, he saw Syusuke curled up into a ball on the couch, probably having fallen asleep while reading since a book lay open on the carpeted floor. Kunimitsu had pondered waking Syusuke up to get him to sleep in his own room. But Kunimitsu quickly dismissed the thought, thinking that he if Syusuke had just fallen asleep, he shouldn't disrupt the Duke's sleep. Besides, they would probably just end up bantering. When he had obtained the list, he began to tread cautiously out of the library, making sure not to wake the Duke up. In the middle of the library however, a few feet from the couch, he stopped and stared. Syusuke was writhing in the couch, groaning and sweating as if in pain.

Quickly, Kunimitsu walked over to the couch, dropped to the floor, reached out and shook Syusuke awake. The Duke bolted up, wild-eyed, breathing heavily, staring blankly. Kunimitsu's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and concern. Since he started working in the mansion, this was the first time he saw real, raw emotion on Syusuke's face. It was filled with terror and anguish. Syusuke's eyes were unfocused, as if seemed they didn't know where to look.

"Syusuke?" Kunimitsu said quietly, his usual toneless voice was etched with a hint of worry.

Like he had only recognized Kunimitsu for the first time since he woke up, Syusuke's eyes widened and he mumbled, "Yuuta… Yumiko…"

Kunimitsu knew these names. He had heard Syusuke sing their praises in Alcian. They were Syusuke's siblings. It was then that Kunimitsu understood what kind of nightmare Syusuke had.

When he saw Syusuke's eyes again, he saw so much pain in them that he had to look away. But after a deep breath, he returned his attention to Syusuke. Syusuke was then hugging his knees to his chest, his head buried in his arms. He wasn't sobbing. He wasn't doing anything, just sitting there silently.

Pressing his lips, Kunimitsu gripped Syusuke's shoulders, trying to shake him to his senses. But Syusuke gazed up at him looking so lost that Kunimitsu thought the Duke would have looked better if he had been crying. "Do you want something?" Kunimitsu asked, completely losing the usual impatient tone he used whenever he spoke to Syusuke.

But Syusuke stubbornly shook his head and buried his head in his arms again. Kunimitsu didn't know how to stop Syusuke from doing this. He didn't know how to react really. Syusuke has never shown this vulnerability before, not even before his family's death, and he knew that part of the reason Syusuke detached himself was to hide this side of him. All Kunimitsu could do was sit next to Syusuke and wait for the latter to calm down.

Fifteen minutes have passed, however, and Syusuke still hadn't moved a muscle. Hoping this was the right thing to do, Kunimitsu faced Syusuke, pried him out of his fetal position and held him tightly. It felt a little awkward because Syusuke did not move for the longest time and Kunimitsu wasn't used to comforting people. But his mother did this when their father died and it helped a lot. After a moment, Syusuke finally moved and buried his head in the crook of Kunimitsu's neck. Kunimitsu felt the hair at the back of his head rise every time he felt Syusuke's hot breath on his skin, and it felt uncomfortable. Not bad. Just uncomfortable. Kunimitsu found this strange. Stranger still, he knew that if Syusuke asked him now, he would say no, he didn't hate Syusuke.

When Syusuke let go, he looked a little better. He was vaguely looking at the floor. His eyes had less pain, but they were still dark with sorrow. Without looking at Kunimitsu, he got to his feet saying, "I'm going to take a walk."

"You should sleep," Kunimitsu said firmly.

"I don't think so," Syusuke said quietly.

Kunimitsu didn't know why he said what he said next. Perhaps he felt sorry for Syusuke. Perhaps he wanted his debt paid. "I'll wake you up if you start having a nightmare."

Syusuke turned sharply to him and let out a hollow laugh. "You wouldn't do that."

Not saying a word, Kunimitsu merely looked at Syusuke, whose eyes widened perhaps with disbelief.

"I thought you hate me," Syusuke whispered.

Throwing Syusuke a side-glance, Kunimitsu said, "I never said so."

"You never said otherwise," Syusuke noted.

"Why does it matter?" Kunimitsu asked, but Syusuke ignored him and started walking. Kunimitsu had no choice but to follow.

This was the first time Kunimitsu had been to the North Wing. Its walls had more white patches than the other wings. He guessed that Syusuke's family probably used to love seeing his works. But it was darker than the other wings; none of the torches were lit, no light streamed from the rooms. It was also a lot quieter than other wings since nobody occupied the rooms on either side of the hallway. Kunimitsu stopped right behind Syusuke when they reached the last door.

The room was the biggest in the mansion and understandably so; it was old and ancient, furnished with antique, and it belonged to one of the kingdom's oldest titles. But it wasn't what he had imagined Syusuke's room to be; he had expected Syusuke's room to have an easel, a mess of sketchbooks, brushes, pencil, crumpled paper. This room, however, was tidy except for the oval bed that had been slept in. The pieces of the chess set on the center table were at their proper positions. The two armchairs on two sides of the center table looked like they hadn't been sat on. The cushions on the cushion facing the bed were set properly. The work desk at the far wall had no clutter of paper, no stray book, not even a feather quill.

Feeling a little weary, Kunimitsu sat on one of the armchairs by the fire, hoping he had the sense to bring a book. But he had been too hasty to remember. He didn't like it, being hasty. He used to think before speaking and acting but recently – tonight, most especially – he didn't seem to be putting thought into his words and actions. He just hoped he wouldn't regret this rashness of offering to look after Syusuke.

Syusuke sat on the armchair across the table. "I'm really not planning to sleep," he said, taking one of the clear crystal pawns on the chess board before him. "Pawn to G3," he said as he moved the pawn a square forward. He tilted his head as he glanced at Kunimitsu, urging the latter to make his move.

Kunimitsu studied Syusuke's face. The Duke seemed more sober now, and part of Kunimitsu believed that after tonight's incident, the Duke would stop being so aloof. After all, he no longer needed to pretend to be strong and firm if someone had seen him so forlorn. But Kunimitsu hoped that Syusuke would at least sleep tonight; if his guess was right, nightmares had been haunting Syusuke for so long and nobody – not even Mr. Toyama – knew so Syusuke probably hadn't had a proper sleep in months. Kunimitsu realized though that Syusuke was as stubborn as he was, and so he could never convince Syusuke to sleep if Syusuke had decided otherwise.

But perhaps, Kunimitsu thought, he could make the game boring enough to make Syusuke fall asleep. He picked up a dark crystal knight and put it on C3.

Syusuke must have been drained emotionally and physically because after his fourth move and as Kunimitsu was deciding on his, Syusuke had already dozed off, his head against the corner of the armchair's backrest. For a brief moment, Kunimitsu watched Syusuke sleep and then he himself had fallen deep in slumber.

Shielding his eyes from the bright rays of the sun coming from the window, Kunimitsu checked his surroundings for familiarity. He saw Syusuke watching him with keen blue eyes and he realized that he had fallen asleep in Syusuke's bedroom. Rubbing his rather stiff neck with his hand, he said, "I should go to the kitchen."

"You don't have to," Syusuke said quietly. "Mr. Toyama's bringing in lunch."

"Lunch?"

Syusuke nodded and Kunimitsu noticed gleams of amusement on the Duke's blue eyes. "We slept late," he reminded. His lips curled into a slight smile.

Slightly taken aback by the sudden change in Syusuke's façade, Kunimitsu nodded silently. Although Syusuke was not smiling the way he usually did before his family's accident, his face was brighter, more pleasant than the usual empty one he had been wearing over the past few months. Kunimitsu could definitely say that this Syusuke was better than last night's.

"Thank you."

Kunimitsu looked up, slightly confused. "Sorry?"

Syusuke gave him a weak smile. "I said thank you."

"We're just even," Kunimitsu replied.

Slowly, Syusuke nodded. But he didn't seem convinced. "Kunimitsu –"

Whatever he had to say was cut off by Mr. Toyama's arrival. The butler was pushing a cart of what smelled like really good roasted chicken. Once or twice, as Mr. Toyama set the chessboard and chess pieces aside to replace them with the food, Kunimitsu caught the butler's eyes stray inquisitively towards him. But Mr. Toyama's curiosity was not going to be satiated for, after he set the food on the table, Syusuke dismissed him instantly.

"Kunimitsu?" Syusuke said cautiously over their lunch. "You don't hate me, do you?"

Kunimitsu arched a brow. "Why do you keep asking that?"

Syusuke merely shrugged and veered his attention to the still smoking chicken between them.

*-*-*-*

Nobody failed to observe the changes in the Duke in the next few weeks. He was no longer aloof and cool. He was almost smiling all the time. He no longer spent the entire day in his room; instead, he usually went to the library to read or to bother Kunimitsu (he enjoyed doing both equally). Sometimes, if he could get Kunimitsu to stop working, he was seen finally out in the winter sun showing Kunimitsu the many sights of the mansion, the statues in the garden, the maze and the two fountains ("Too bad," he often said, "they're all covered in snow"). This made the general mood of kitchen lighter (voices were higher and happier in the kitchen these days). The servants no longer spoke about Syusuke in hushed cautious voices. But to their minds, the change in the Duke wouldn't be complete if he didn't start painting again.

Kunimitsu shared this opinion. After all, he knew that next to his family, art was the most important thing for the Duke. During one of his and Syusuke's game of chess, he asked why the Duke stopped painting. Syusuke's face immediately went blank, his eyes hazed, his lips pressed. Syusuke acted as if he didn't hear the question, and he proceeded to make his move. This hostile reaction to the very mention of painting puzzled Kunimitsu. Months ago, Syusuke had been so hell-bent on shifting from Economics to Classical Arts, even claiming that if he had to relinquish his title for his art, he would. Hence, Kunimitsu suspected that neither mere depression nor lack of inspiration was the reason behind Syusuke's resistance to painting. Whatever it was though Kunimitsu could only guess.

Eiji, after finally being allowed to go to the North Wing, had been assigned the task of sweeping the family rooms down (Eiji recalled that Mrs. Inoue told him to be relentless about cleaning: let no spider be left alive, no sheet unwashed, no curtain replaced, no dust unswept, no carpet unbrushed). The last room he chose to clean was the Duchess' bedroom, where he said they had kept the master's paintings. Wearing a bandanna around his head and carrying a broom with one hand, he entered the records room and asked if Kunimitsu wanted to see the paintings – in exchange, of course, for helping him clean. After all, the Duchess' bedroom was nearly as large as that of the Duke's. And it had a parlor. And a tearoom. And a balcony. And plant boxes. And, well, the paintings would need dusting too, Eiji said.

Kunimitsu let Eiji lead the way to the Duchess' room, which was just a study room away from the Duke's bedroom. Before opening the door, Eiji told him to avoid making noises. He said they didn't want the Duke to know that the paintings were there. And then Eiji stifled a laugh saying, "I forgot. You don't make any noise at all." Still snickering, Eiji inserted the key through the keyhole and pushed the door open.

The room was undeniably a lady's room. It had more things in it than the Duke's room. Near one wall mounted with two full-body mirrors, there was a divider that looked like it had been imported from some exotic place. It had more chairs probably for the ladies that waited on the Duchess. The colors were lighter and brighter than the earth colors of the Duke's room. But what appeared more notable to Kunimitsu were the rows of framed paintings that filled the room. All the space that could be filled was practically occupied by a painting of the same set of people: a smiling, middle-aged lady who reminded him of his mother, an attractive smiling young lady with flaming red hair and a boy a little younger than him who, unlike the others, was not smiling at all. Occasionally, among these, a portrait of a serious and noble-looking man with graying brown hair and blue eyes appeared. Judging by the scenes that Syusuke portrayed (family picnics, the boy chasing a dog, the two ladies doing embroidery), theirs was a happy and peaceful family. He couldn't think of why anybody would want to destroy it. But then again, theirs was also an old, wealthy and influential name. And they had their disputes about the title. There was the former Duke's older brother who ran away and came back claiming the title, and there were countless distant relatives who tried to discredit the former Duke.

"Here," Eiji said, handing Kunimitsu a feather duster. "Clean the paintings and the furniture."

They hadn't been cleaning the room for an hour when Eiji approached him and began handing him a wet rag and the broom. "I need to go to town to get something. I'll be back later."

Before Kunimitsu could even object, Eiji had gone out of the room. Shaking his head, Kunimitsu continued with his work. In an hour, a knock came to the door. Relieved and tired, Kunimitsu said, "Eiji…"

"I thought I heard someone in –"

Syusuke stopped in mid-sentence. His eyes widened as they landed on the paintings. "Why are these here?" he asked, his tone had no trace of emotion. He took quick strides to one of the family portraits and flung it to the wall, sending splinters of the wooden frame on the carpet. He took hold of another painting, raised his hand to do the same but Kunimitsu dropped the broom and gripped his arm, letting the painting slide through his fingers to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Kunimitsu asked through gritted teeth.

"I told them to get rid of the paintings. I told them to," Syusuke mumbled to himself, his eyes were as unfocused as they were that night in the library.

"They didn't want to," Kunimitsu said firmly, still clutching Syusuke's arms.

"I don't want to see them," Syusuke hissed trying to free himself from Kunimitsu's, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

Kunimitsu glared at Syusuke. "Stop it. Stop acting like a child."

"That's easy for you to say," Syusuke said tonelessly. "You didn't lose your family to a traitor."

Scowling, Kunimitsu studied Syusuke's face. "What does this have to do with your paintings?"

"Everything," Syusuke replied in a hollow voice. "Uncle taught me to paint. Uncle had them killed."

Staring at Syusuke in disbelief, Kunimitsu shook his head. "I don't – "

"He played me. He used me. He wanted me to paint. He wanted me to go to Alcian, study Classical Arts and give up the title so that he can kill my parents and get the title. But he miscalculated. He thought he could force me to give up the title."

"Or maybe," Kunimitsu started, "he wanted you to lose your head to discredit your claim." He gazed down at Syusuke. "Do you still think he miscalculated?"

Syusuke's eyes grew round and wide. A streak of pain crossed his entire countenance. At that moment, Kunimitsu hoped he had been less frank by nature so that he could have said the words differently, with more kindness and sympathy.

Syusuke took his arm away from Kunimitsu, who let it go. He sat on the edge of his mother's bed, looking at the paintings around him. "Do they all think that? That I'm losing my head?"

Kunimitsu hesitated but he knew that the truth would help. "They think you're giving in to depression," he stated. "But they don't blame you for it."

Syusuke laughed but without mirth. "Such kind words." He threw himself to the bed, grabbed one of the dusty pillows and covered his head with it. He remained silent for a while and then he sat up again, tossing the pillow aside. "How about you? Do you think I'm crazy?"

Remembering his own incredulity at the sight of Syusuke in his rented room at Oleander Inn, Kunimitsu nodded. "I always thought you were."

At this, Syusuke threw his head in a genuine laugh. "Indeed, indeed. And I always thought you have a sense of humor." Syusuke's eyes narrowed and he asked, "Would you hate me if I did this?"

"Did –?" Kunimitsu couldn't finish his inquiry. Syusuke had grabbed the lapel of his shirt and pulled him close, drawing him to a long, fierce kiss. When Syusuke had let go of him, Kunimitsu gaped at Syusuke, not knowing how to comprehend what just happened.

Syusuke peered at him. "Do you hate me?"

Still trying to recover from the confusion he was in, Kunimitsu shook his head. "I don't think so."

Syusuke smiled brightly. "That's enough for me."

"Kunimitsu, Kunimitsu," went a voice from the door. They both turned and saw Eiji, who seemed to have just realized that his master was in the room too. He bowed quickly. "Your Grace, I – er – I didn't know –"

Syusuke rose up, and adopted his usual wide smile. "What is it, Eiji?"

Very confused, Eiji said in a half-panicked, half-shouting voice, "The Earl's mother is waiting at the main parlor, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Eiji," Syusuke said in his old, soft voice. "Will you make sure she's given tea and cakes?" At once, Eiji bowed and left. Turning to Kunimitsu, Syusuke said, "I need to talk to her as a good host does. You should go change." He gave him a faint smile. "I don't want her to think that I'm a monster of a master."

*-*-*-*

Syusuke and Ayana stopped talking when Kunimitsu entered the parlor. Mr. Toyama beckoned him to sit on the couch beside his mother and offered him a cup of tea, which he declined.

"Lord Kunimitsu," Syusuke started, making Kunimitsu frown because of the sudden formality, "Lady Ayana was telling me that your family is moving back to Kestral. I'm glad the case of the farm accident is already solved." Kunimitsu frowned and Syusuke blinked and nodded slightly. Syusuke turned to Ayana and asked, "When are you planning to go back to Kestral, my lady?"

"Within this week, Your Grace," Ayana replied with an undeniably happy smile.

"Of course you're planning to send the Earl back to Alcian University?" Syusuke inquired.

"Certainly, my lord. There is nothing the Earl wants more than education," Ayana said proudly.

Kunimitsu noticed Syusuke glance at him with a faint smile as if in agreement. "Indeed. I believe he enjoyed using our library." He got up and said, "Perhaps I should leave the two of you now so you may talk in private."

Ayana and Kunimitsu rose as well. "Thank you for your generosity, Your Grace."

"You are very welcome, my lady."

During the entire time that Ayana was telling him what happened with the case, Kunimitsu wasn't really listening. His mother's words entered into one ear and left through the other. His mind kept straying to what passed between him and Syusuke before his mother arrived and what was going to happen now that he was going back to Kestral. The sensible part of him told him that he shouldn't really worry because Syusuke's old self was coming back slowly and steadily. He didn't even know why he cared so much. But something was pulling him here. Maybe the knowledge that Syusuke wanted him here? Maybe because Syusuke needed him here?

"Kunimitsu?"

Shaken back to the present, Kunimitsu quickly said, "I need to talk to the Duke."

"Very well," Ayana said, slightly frowning because of her son's rare display of absent-mindedness. "I'll go to your room and pack your things."

After showing his mother to his room, Kunimitsu walked briskly toward the North Wing in search for Syusuke. He found the Duke in the former Duchess' bedroom, talking to Eiji and giving instructions on where to mount the paintings. Carrying some of the smaller paintings out of the room, Eiji stopped to grin at Kunimitsu and left for wherever Syusuke pointed him to.

"You haven't left yet," Syusuke remarked. He was smiling like the first time Kunimitsu saw him and yet he was not. His smile drooped a little at the corners and it wasn't a completely cheerful one.

"Will you be painting again?"

"Yes." Syusuke picked up one of the family portraits from the floor as if to make his point. "I shouldn't let him take away my art. I don't owe it to him."

Kunimitsu's eyes softened. "Will you be all right?"

At this, Syusuke tilted his head and lifted a brow. "If you're asking if I'll recover from my apparently manic depression… I think I'll be all right. Thank you, though." He raised his hand as if to touch Kunimitsu, but he dropped it midway, probably thinking of how inappropriate it was and how anybody might come in at any time. He smiled widely and genuinely instead. "Besides, it's not like we're not going to see each other again in Alcian." He beamed even wider and his eyes gleamed with mischief.

*-*-*-*

Kunimitsu couldn't help resenting his sisters on his first three days back at home. They wouldn't stop asking him about the Duke especially since their mother said that the Duke didn't seem at all like what the rumors made him. Duke Alhandri, their mother said, was polite, well-mannered, soft-spoken and pleasant. On top of that, he was so very handsome – almost beautiful – and so very charming. She added that it was very fortunate that the Duke was neither engaged nor married yet. Although he knew that their mother was only teasing his sisters, he couldn't help resenting her too.

For his part, Kunimitsu never answered any of their questions, showing an extreme lack of interest. He always retreated to his room to read whenever they started talking about the Duke. Though his sisters considered this as his usual attachment to silence, this didn't pass unnoticed by Ayana who on the afternoon before they planned to leave for Kestral followed her son to the attic room.

She found him sitting in bed, leaning against the wall. In his left hand was an old book that she often saw him reading. She sat on the edge of the bed and her eyes fell on the two folded pieces of paper to Kunimitsu's right. Curious, she unfolded them and then she smiled. "Did you draw this? I didn't know you had an artistic side."

Kunimitsu looked up from the pages of his book. He saw his mother holding up a sketch of him, and he shook his head.

"I didn't think so," Ayana said flippantly. "And this?"

Kunimitsu saw the caricature that came with the sketch. "No," he said.

"Who drew them then?" Ayana asked.

"The Duke did," Kunimitsu replied.

Ayana nodded. "I see. Do you miss him? – I mean… it. Do you miss it?"

"The what?"

"The mansion. It does have a very good library, doesn't it?" She asked. Kunimitsu, however, had the feeling she wasn't talking about the library. "If you want to stay in the mansion, I would understand. After all, the library will help you catch up with the lessons for the next term. I take it that the Duke wouldn't mind?" When Kunimitsu didn't answer, she said, "You don't really have to go to Kestral with us. I already wrote Todou and told him to prepare the house for us. And if you would leave the list of the items that we sold, I'm sure we can get them back."

"Staying in the North would be being selfish," Kunimitsu said.

"No, dear," Ayana said. "Keeping you with us and being hindrances to your… future would be selfish." She smiled. "So tomorrow we'll drop you at the mansion?"

*-*-*-*

The next afternoon, the coach that was to travel back to Kestral stopped at the gates of the Alhandri mansion. Shiro rushed forward and opened the gates, looking wonderingly at Kunimitsu who was taking his trunk out of the coach. "Goodbye, dear," Ayana said, bending forward and kissing her son's forehead. "We'll write when we reach Kestral."

After the coach rolled off to the direction of the south, Kunimitsu with some assistance by Shiro got his luggage into the mansion. "The Earl! The Earl is back!!!" announced Shiro as they got into the kitchen.

Mrs. Inoue instantly dropped to a curtsy at the sight of him. "My lord," she said anxiously. She looked particularly harried today, like she hadn't had sleep yet (well, either that or the unlikely chance that she had been cooking for an army). "The master is in his room. He has a very high fever the entire night and it hasn't gone down yet."

Lines of concern formed on Kunimitsu's face. But he automatically shifted to his usual calm composure and said, "Please send cold water, some towels and soup to the Duke's room. I'll look after him so you may sleep."

Looking very relieved, Mrs. Inoue nodded and immediately put Shiro to work, ordering him to get the water.

Syusuke was curled in bed in a disturbed sleep, sweating profusely, breathing raggedly when Kunimitsu reached the Duke's room. Kunimitsu pulled an armchair to the side of the oval bed and reached out to check Syusuke's temperature. Syusuke was burning with fever, no wonder Syusuke's usually pale skin flushed red. When Mr. Toyama brought in a basin of cold water and towels, Kunimitsu instantly dipped a towel in the ice cold water and started to wipe Syusuke's face and neck.

"What has he been doing?" he asked as he dipped the towel in the water and moved on to wipe Syusuke's arms with it.

"He has been painting, my lord," Mr. Toyama said quietly. "He hardly slept. He kept saying he needed to finish it soon."

Kunimitsu nodded though he didn't really understand. "You may get some rest too," he told Mr. Toyama. The butler was reluctant to leave but Kunimitsu insisted so Mr. Toyama had no choice but leave the room.

That night, Kunimitsu had his supper sent to Syusuke's room but hardly touched it. He alternated between wiping Syusuke's body with the cold towel and with making sure that Syusuke didn't sweat through his shirt. Later into the night, when Syusuke didn't show any sign of waking, Kunimitsu went down to the already deserted kitchen to get a teapot to make sure the Duke had something hot to drink when he woke up and a pitcher of water. Then he quickly went back to the Duke's room.

Kunimitsu was reading a book when he heard the silk blankets rustle. He got to his feet and approached the bed where Syusuke was forcing himself to sit up. "What do you need?" Kunimitsu asked.

"Thirsty," mumbled the half-awake Syusuke who was rubbing his throat. Kunimitsu immediately took a glass, filled it with water and handed it to Syusuke.

After a few small sips, Syusuke gave him back the glass and rolled back to sleep. At around midnight, Kunimitsu checked Syusuke's forehead with the back of his hand and let out a sigh. Syusuke's fever seemed to be going down steadily. He got back to the armchair near Syusuke's bed and continued reading. In fifteen minutes, he too was asleep.

Kunimitsu woke up hours later to the sight of an empty, unmade bed. From what he could see from the gaps between the curtains, the sun was just rising and he knew Syusuke couldn't have gone out of the mansion. He went out of the room and started to search for the Duke. But he didn't have to look far as the Duchess' bedroom door was wide open and he saw Syusuke wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a stool in the middle of the room, facing a canvass that was propped on an easel. When Syusuke noticed Kunimitsu approach, he grabbed a white cloth and flung it carelessly on the canvass.

"Good morning," Syusuke greeted cheerfully. He didn't look as fully recovered as Kunimitsu would have liked but he didn't seem like he would faint any minute.

"You should be in bed," Kunimitsu said flatly.

Syusuke walked toward Kunimitsu and said, mimicking Kunimitsu's tone, "You should be in Kestral." He stopped a foot away from Kunimitsu and asked, "Why are you here? Did you come back to say goodbye? Is your mother waiting for you?"

"I came to stay till term starts," Kunimitsu said quickly.

That certainly made Syusuke's eyes fly open in surprise. "But I don't –"

Syusuke was going to say that he didn't understand. But now he did because Kunimitsu's lips were pressed against his, kissing him. He kissed back gently, opening his mouth to encourage Kunimitsu to explore it. Kunimitsu accepted the invitation and slid his tongue into Syusuke's mouth, sucking softly, nibbling gently. Letting his hands loop around Kunimitsu neck, he pressed Kunimitsu's face closer, deepening the kiss.

They kissed and kissed and kissed until they both ran out of breath.

Still catching his breath, arms wrapped around Kunimitsu's neck, blanket lying on the floor, Syusuke remarked happily, "I think you're going to get sick too. And I think I got sick trying to finish a painting that apparently didn't need to be finished that soon."

"What is it?" Kunimitsu asked, disengaging himself from Syusuke's arms and walking to the easel.

Picking up his blanket and wrapping it around himself, Syusuke followed Kunimitsu and threw away the white cloth from the canvass. What Kunimitsu saw in front of him was his own image, reading in an armchair by the fire. Syusuke feigned a sad frown. "I was going to give it to you before you went to Kestral. What do I do with this now?"

"I'll have it mounted in my room," Kunimitsu offered, eyes still fixed on painting. He felt undeniably elated that he was the one who helped Syusuke get back to his art.

"In our room?" Syusuke said. He chuckled when Kunimitsu glared at him. "This means you'll be my subject, doesn't it?"

Pressing his lips, Kunimitsu nodded.

"I want my next masterpiece to be you portrayed like one of the gods of mythology," Syusuke said proudly.

Kunimitsu looked up quickly. "They usually don't wear anything in paintings and sculptures."

Syusuke wrapped his arms around Kunimitsu. Laughing, he whispered, "My point exactly."

**End**


End file.
